What It Really Means to Forgive When It Hurts Most
Life, as our Elders often say, is a journey—a river that flows with moments of beauty and joy, but also currents of pain and hardship. Along this journey, we sometimes encounter people whose actions stem not from love or understanding, but from a place of darkness. These are the moments that test our spirit the most. How do we walk through the shadows without becoming shadow ourselves? How do we forgive those who have caused harm—and more deeply, how do we do this while still honoring our own truth?
Seeing Clearly Through the Pain
When someone acts from deception or evil intent, it shakes our sense of safety and disrupts the sacred balance we strive to live by. It’s natural to feel anger, confusion, even hatred. But our Tlingit, Haida, and Tsimshian teachings remind us: clarity begins with stillness. When we pause to listen—to the land, to our ancestors, and to our inner knowing—we start to see not just the pain they caused, but the brokenness behind their actions. This doesn’t excuse their behavior. But it does help us to understand that their darkness often comes from their own wounds, their own disconnection from the light.
The Power and Challenge of Forgiveness
Forgiveness is not the same as forgetting, and it is not passive. It’s one of the most active and powerful choices we can make. Forgiveness means we refuse to carry the weight of their harm any longer. We set down the burden, not for their sake, but for ours. For our families. For the generations coming after us.
This doesn’t mean we must immediately trust again. Trust is earned through truth, accountability, and consistent healing. Forgiveness can exist without reconciliation. We can forgive and still hold boundaries. We can release resentment while still saying, “That behavior was not acceptable.”
Honoring Without Denying the Truth
In our culture, we are taught to honor—to honor the land, our ancestors, each other. So what does it mean to honor someone who has acted in dishonorable ways?
It means we honor their humanity, not their harm. We acknowledge that all people are sacred, even when their actions are not. We hold them accountable without vilifying their spirit. It’s a delicate balance. But it’s possible. And in doing so, we reclaim our own strength. We choose not to mirror the darkness, but to walk with light.
Returning to Ourselves
Ultimately, forgiveness is a return. A return to who we are—not who they tried to make us feel like. We are people of dignity, wisdom, and resilience. We are rooted in stories that teach us to rise, again and again. The salmon return upstream despite every obstacle. The cedar stands tall despite the storms.
So when we are faced with darkness in others, may we remember: our light does not depend on theirs. We forgive not because they deserve it, but because we deserve peace.
Let us walk forward with open eyes and strong hearts. Let us hold our boundaries with grace. Let us choose forgiveness not as surrender—but as sovereignty.
Gunalchéesh / Háw’aa / T’oyaxsut ‘nüüsm — thank you for walking this journey with courage.
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